They tell me I’ll be fine one day. But that one day won’t come that easy.
Believe me it really didn’t.
I couldn’t wait for that one day to come heal me. Rid me of that throbbing ache which rose from within my lungs and radiated to the end of my fingertips.
So I started counting tomorrows.
Tomorrow I’ll be fine.
Every tomorrow I waited for the next, to come and take him out of me. Drain my love that ran deep within my nerves out of me
Tomorrow will be the day I won’t sleep crying, whispering his name under my muffled breath.
Tomorrow I won’t wake up if I could manage any sleep to be checking my phone for his texts.
Tomorrow this city won’t haunt me with visions of him and me. Of us that tainted this beautiful town. An us that never really existed.
Tomorrow after tomorrow.
I continued counting tomorrows.
That one day did come and go. I could breathe again as light as a newborn. I could share our memories again, again remember them as the good memories that they once were. I could enjoy my coffee again. Soaking myself in it’s aroma.
I could embrace the us that existed even if only for me, with a beautiful satisfaction in my heart and a rustle in my smooth hair.
On the way to healing I forgot about counting tomorrows.
And that my friends, who are as broken and forgotten as I was, is when that one day comes.
When we stop counting tomorrows.
Stop counting tomorrows where he isn’t there anymore rather embrace our days with ourselves and everything we ought to be.
That one day will come for you too and you wouldn’t even know.
– the incomplete verse